


Outside The Walls

by Immortalnite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, America, Baby Armin Arlert, Greek independence, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, I mean slow, Immigration & Emigration, Language Barrier, Opium, Ottoman Empire, Slow Burn, Tea, Turks - Freeform, Use this to study fr ur history tests, geishas, hange is a crazy cat lady and also landlord, marco's pizza, rugs, set in the 1800s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: The illegitimate son of a Qing ambassador and Japanese geisha, Levi is only safe in the monoculture the Tokugawa Shigunate has created as long as no one guesses who his father is.With tensions in the east rising between Russia with the European powers and the Ottoman Empire over Greece, it's becoming increasignly dangerous for Eren's Prussian father to visit. If he's caught, it's a death sentence for them all.AKA the author likes to write historical AUs and have Marco open pizza shops





	1. Chapter 1

Eren danced through the market, dodging hands and fists, ducking under arms and weaving around the most energetic hagglers. The extra fabric of his mother's borrowed headscarf hit against his back with each leap and step he took. He had several loaves of bread stuffed into the front of his loose, wrapped shirt, something no one seemed to pay attention to. He'd never been caught, but running through the market like this was just too fun for him to pass up.  
  
A turn past a stall into an alley, left on the street that it emptied out to and into the narrow side streets that lined the brothels and shops and houses, all the way out to the poorest part of town.  
  
His own house was small, but he loved it nonetheless. The door was barely more than a formality, so cracked and old that sand blew in through the gaps and settled on the floor no matter how many times they swept the area. Windows were contantly open in the summer in an attempt to relieve the stifling heat and Eren could see right into their small kitchen from the street. He couldn't see his mom in the small room, so he figured she was probably in the bedroom, working on the rugs she loved so much.  
  
He ducked inside, placing the stolen bread on the counter innocently. His dad would be upset if he found Eren had been stealing.  
  
His mother was in the bedroom after all, sitting on the single chair in the corner. She looked up when he entered, her face breaking into a warm smile.  
  
"Come sit with me, help me with this rug." She pointed at the ground at the foot of her chair and held out a spare needle to him. Eren took the needle happily and sat down. She hummed and reached down to unwrap his headscarf. Eren had to blink furiosly for a few seconds, his eyes unused to the light.  
  
He always wore the covering when he went out, his mother insisting on it. Without his face covered, his eyes would have been all too noticeable, dead give aways to his heritage.  
  
Eren was all lean, gangly limbs, messy hair and dark skin that spoke of his Turkish mother. If you never looked at his face, he looked like any other Turk. But his eyes were a different story. Only one eye was the gold that his mom's eyes were, a colour that was normal in the Ottoman empire.  
  
The door Eren had just come through opened again and another figure, this time clothed from head to toe came in. The door was shut and then the figure was unwinding his covering cloth. Pale skin, made darker by sun and brown hair lightened by sun. His eyes were brown, but a light brown that was flecked with the green. The same green that coloured Eren's other eye.  
  
"Dad!" Eren sprang up from where he sat, running over to his dad.  
  
"Welcome home, Grisha." His mother set aside the rug she'd been working on.  
  
It wasn't often that Eren's dad came home, remaining for the most part in Galata, the foreigner's quarter. He'd come down from Prussia as the doctor and apprentice to a Prussian metalworker who'd been seeking the secrets of the famous jewellery in the Ottoman Empire. His master had died and he'd almost sold the metal shop and returned to Prussia, but then he'd met Eren's mom.  
  
Eren had heard the story so many times but it was still his favourite. They'd met and fallen in love, but never married nor moved in together. The Russians and the Empire were at odds over Greece, some place across the water where the ships came from according to Eren's dad, and as a result the Turks didn't like those with light skin, hair or eyes. Eren didn't follow it at all, but he had to accept that whatever silly rules the Sultan made had to be followed, even if that somehow meant his dad could only sometimes come to see them and always had to sneak there.  
  
It was just how life worked for them, and Eren didn't mind.

 

~*~

 

"Will you tell me about him?"  
  
"About whom?" His mother smiled gently at him in the mirror as she carefully wiped away the layer of white and red from her face  
  
"My father!" Levi whined, scooting forward so he was only a few feet away from her pillow.  
  
"I've told you about him before, dear."  
  
"But I want to hear about him again." Levi crossed his arms and pouted, puffing out his cheeks for good measure.  
  
"If I tell you, will you go to bed?" His mother asked slyly.  
  
"Yes!" He shot up off the pillow, grinning.  
  
"Alright." She got up, toeing on her slippers and waited for him to follow her. His head nearly reached her elbow now, Levi noted proudly. One day he'd be bigger than her and they could work together, maybe get their own house, even.  
  
He followed her to the sleeping quarters for the femal geishas, plopping down on the futon thay they shared. She knelt down beside him, running her fingers through his hair soothingly when he layed down.  
  
"He was a powerful man, here to meet with the shogun when I met him. He came here one night with his friends and the manager sent for me to entertain them."  
  
"Because you're the best at singing and dancing!"  
  
She stopped and gave him a look. "If you already know the story, I won't tell it."  
  
Levi slapped a hand over his mouth, but she was smiling so he knew he wasn't in trouble.  
  
"Yes, dear, because I am the best at singing and dancing." His mother continued. "Right away, I picked him out of all of them. He was quiet, watchful. His eyes were a stunning colour that I had never seen before. They were silver, just like yours are." She hesitated for a moment and leant down to kiss his forehead.  
  
"As I played for them, I learnt that he was an ambassador from the Qing dynasty, here to negotiate trade. His trip here was a formality, meant to impress and dazzle him. As the night drew to a close, the manager came to me and told me I had been offered great money to entertain him privately."  
  
Levi lived in a yakuko, and he was no stranger to the euphamisms and their meanings that many women used to talk about their work, despite being five. Even so, he knew the particular services his mother spoke of were not the norm for geishas.  
  
"His escort wanted him to experience the fullness of Japan, prove our superiority in every aspect. Theu couldn't take him to a brothel, not at his rank."  
  
"Did you love him?"  
  
His mother laughed, a sweet sound that he adored more than anything. "I love what he gave me."  
  
As he stared up at her, her expression turned sombre and serious. "Levi, never tell anyone who your father is. Never say a word."  
  
Levi nodded, understanding. He was enough of an oddity with his eyes, the manager constantly praising them and assuring his mother what a magnificent taikomochi he would make one day. Anywhere outside the floating world of the pleasure district, his eyes would be considered the mark of a demon and he would be shunned or killed. If anyone where to find out about his foreign father, not even the walls of the compound would save him.

~*~

 

"A lamb? Too much. Your fabric is shoddy, poor quality. You are lucky I am offering to take it." A merchant bared his rotten teeth and spit off to the side, scoffing at Eren pretentiously.  
  
"This fabric is beautifully made by some of the best in the city. But only an artist could see that, I suppose. I cannot fault you, you probably haven't seen many Turkish fabrics, most are far too expensive for you." Eren shrugged. "It's a good thing this one is small. Besides, one lamb is being quite generous. Look at those lambs. They are limp, weak, scrawny things. Probably got them from some poor farmer three weeks ago. This fabric is worth one good lamb, and yours look mediocre."  
  
The merchant squinted. "Half a lamb."  
  
Eren sighed, pretending to give up. "Is that your final price?"  
  
"Yes." The merchant held out his hand confidently, smelling a victory.  
  
Eren looked behind him, making sure the merchant had no other customers. Sure enough, it was as empty as it always was so early in the day.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll be on my way, then. I can hardly return home with no fabric and so little to show in return." Eren made a show of shouldering the fabric and turning away.  
  
"Wait, sir!" The merchant, now impatient to make a sale, panicked. "I was joking! I will give you a lamb for it."  
  
Eren waved him off. "No, it's alright. I'll go somewhere else."  
  
"A lamb and two legs!"  
  
Eren turned, hesitating. It was all part of the show. Bring them in, tease them, then push them away until they're begging to give you their wares.  
  
"Two lambs!"  
  
"Oh, alright."  
  
The merchant's grin was sickening. He happily handed over two lambs, taking the roll of fabric from Eren and stashing it in a crate that had once been filled with fish. Eren resisted wrinkling his nose, knowing that the little roll of fabric he'd worked on would soon reek so horribly of fish no one would consider buying it.  
  
But it was alright, he'd gotten the prize he came for. Pulling his messy headscarf further down, he shouldered the bag he'd stuffed the lambs into and headed for home. The headscarf was intentionally messily wrapped, creating a boyish, careless look that didn't draw too much attention to the way one side drooped over his left eye, the green one. It was just a precaution, at any rate.  
  
His mom would be absolutely thrilled with his haul today. They weren't big animals, but between the two of them he and his mom would have plenty of food for a while. Hopefully his dad would drop by. It wasn't often that Eren could snag a merchant like that,one who was new enough to believe the bullshit he spewed about how much his fabric was worth. Not that it was cheap, of course, but for the little amount Eren had on him to trade? Two lambs was a fantastic price.  
  
She probably would need more spices soon, though. Maybe even more materials to make the rich dyes they used on fabrics. Probably even more cotton. The price of a bolt of fabric could easily cover the cost of the materials and then some, but they were often short on money. It was ok, though, Eren had alternate ways of getting it.

 

~*~

 

Their voices were soft, perfectly twining together. Her voice floated above his like a dancing cherry blossom above gently swaying grass. Around them, customers were chatting softly, the day too young yet for any sake to have been ordered to raise the volume. A few women who had accompanied their husbands watched the young man as he danced and sung in front of an older woman holding a shamisen.  
  
Days like this were Levi's favourite. Recently having become a full taikomochi, he was allowed to perform on his own, but the manager still allowed him to sing with his mother. She was still young, but not as young as she'd been and the manager had been slowly cutting down her performances since Levi had overtaken her spot as the best.  He knew she missed the music and the dance so he used that minuscule bit of privilege that came with his position at the top to request her as his accompaniment.  
  
Besides, no one could blend voices as well as they could together.  
  
As the crowd slowly thinned in the early evening, another pair of girls came out, politely relieving Levi and his mother from their places. They finished their song together as the fresh girls started one in a seamless transition, Levi and his mother heading to the back to set down their instruments and rest.  
  
The manager was waiting for them in the back and they both bowed deeply to her. She dismissed Levi's mother quickly, letting her know she had the night off before turning to Levi.  
  
"In the next few hours, you will clean and dress in your best. You will be assigned to a private room tonight with two others as the head geisha there. I expect you will perform as best as you are able to." The manager spoke in a clipped tone and Levi bowed deeply again, knowing better than to question her.  
  
When he straightened up, she dismissed him but as he started to walk away she spoke again.  
  
"Levi. The owner himself is the one who reserved the private room."  
  
Levi turned back to look at her in shock, but she was already walking away.  
  
In all sixteen years of his life in the compound, he had never once seen the owner. He'd been told the owner only came in when there were famous or royal guests to entertain.  
  
Now, he would be expected to entertain the man and his friends. Private room  were always big deals, almost always involving some of the wealthiest and most important guests and therefore only the most talented geishas were given the assignments. But this particular assignment promised more than the usual extra money. If Levi displeased the owner in anyway, he knew a simple word from the man would be more than enough to get him removed. His contract could be transferred to another house, a brothel, or terminated entirely. His mother would be trapped, saddled with the bill for that for the rest of her life.  
  
If he wasn't perfect tonight, he could loose everything.

 

~*~

 

He returned home earlier than he'd expected to, the sun barely over top of the towering walls that surrounded Constantinople. His mother was sitting in her chair, spinning cotton into threads. When the door shut she looked up in surprise.  
  
"Home so soon?"  
  
Eren grinned, setting his bag down and coming to kiss her on the cheek. "New merchant in town. I got two lambs, skin and all. I don't think he even shaved them."  
  
Her eyes went wide and she jumped up, coming over to inspect Eren's haul. They really were scrawny animals, but there were definitely good parts on them. Eren knew every part of them would be put to good use with his mom.  
  
She looked excited as the inspected them, standing up on her toes to kiss his cheek in happiness.  
  
"These are perfect, Eren. If you think you can get me some spices and vegetables, I'll call your dad to come over."  
  
Eren nodded vigorously. "Yes!"  
  
With political tensions on the rise again between Russia and the Empire over Greece, foreigners like his father, and him, legally, were totally banned from the main city and confined to the foreigner's quarter in Galata. As a result, he'd been visiting less and less as it got more dangerous for him to be seen with them. The punishment had slowly evolved from removal to whippings to death. Soldiers heavily patrolled Galata and Eren knew it was tough for anyone to sneak out of there.  
  
So when his mom asked him to do something in return for calling his father over, Eren would get it done, however he needed to.  
  
It was a good thing it was early in the day.  
  
Eren headed back out, this time going towards the bazaar. Spices were expensive, but easy to steal from fat merchants who could barely see past their bellies. He'd not been caught yet, fortunately. A few merchants knew him as Carla's boy, which gave him something of a good reputation. Enough for him to get away with snatching a few things here and there and no one being the wiser.  
  
The bazaar was always more packed in the morning than the docks were, the water keeping the docks a slightly temperature until much later in the day. It made Eren's job that much easier. He pushed past someone scouring goods the side of one stall, pinching a bit of paprika. Another stall yeilded cumen. Another pepper, an onion, some green thing that Eren could never really taste but his mom seemed to love.  
  
One by one, he got everything he needed untill all that was left was cinnamon. For whatever reason, only one merchant ever seemed to have cinnamon. One of the richest and most unfortunately vigilant men in the bazaar guarded his wares like some sort of desert lioness, and those wares included cinnamon.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Eren readied himself. He'd not been caught yet. He walked by casually, grabbing what he needed. For a second he thought he was home free, and then came the shouts.  
  
"Thief!"  
  
Eren broke into a run, weaving around people and ducking under arms. The end of the street was in sight when a big chest appeared out of nowhere and Eren slammed right into it. The guard he'd collided with dragged him upwards by the back of his shirt, peeling up the fallen over side of his headscarf. The man's barely visible eyes narrowed at the sight of Eren's mismatched set.  
  
"A mix then?"  
  
"Take him to the palace. Mixes are illegal."  
  
A second guard joined the first.  
  
"Sure, but let's find the parents first." The guard turned to the crowd and cupped his hand over where Eren guessed his mouth would be. "Anyone know this kid?" He shouted.  
  
Eren didn't wait to see who would betray him. Taking advantage of the man's hand placement, Eren rammed his fist into the guy's mouth, feeling teeth snap out of place as he did. The hand on his clothes dropped and Eren took off again, dipping into a back alley and curving through several other streets until he was sure he wasn't followed.  
  
As soon as he got home again, he collapsed on the threshold.

 

~*~

 

Levi cleaned and dressed in the best he had, as instructed. His kimono was a deep blue with silver koi swimming up the sides. The inside was a soft cream. A few young girls helped him into it, tying his obi into a traditional knot that spoke to his rank. They left him soon enough to do his makeup and hair on his own.  
  
He pulled the long queue of hair around the sides of his head into a knot in the back, securing it with clips before walking over to the table that held his mirror and makeup. With a practised hand, he painted on the white base, red eyebrows, red lips. He ran a hand cautiously over the shaved top of his head, checking anxiously for any fuzz that meant he needed to shave it again.  
  
There was a soft knock on the door and it slid open. Levi didn't need to turn to know it was his mother. She knelt beside him and he turned to look at her.  
  
"Levi, tonight is important."  
  
He nodded. Of course it was important.  
  
"I need you to do something else tonignt." She paused and Levi realised with a start just how unsteady her breathing was. "Keep your eyes down, sing and play and dance, but leave the serving to the girls. Keep as far away from the owner as you can."  
  
"Mother?" He was confused.  
  
"He was the one who asked for me to entertain your father." She caught his gaze and held it, serious and frightened. "He will recognise your eyes."  
  
Levi drew in a breath and he nodded. "I understand."  
  
It was only more dangerous now, the shogunate's increasingly strict rules against foreign contact had turned Japan into a monoculture where everyone looked the same. His eyes, even his slightly different features, everything about him that slightly alluded that he might not be completely Japanese endangered his life. He was safe from superstition within the walls of the yakuko, but not from the one man who might see more than just an unusual appearance.

~*~

 

"Eren? Eren, what happened?" His mom rushed over.  
  
"I got caught." Eren's voice was barely a whisper.  
  
She grabbed him into a fierce hug, pressing her face into his hair.  
  
"Then it's time." His dad came out of the kitchen and Eren looked at him. The years had only increased the bags under his eyes and yet this was the most haggard Eren had seen him lool so far.  
  
"Time for what?"  
  
His mom cradled his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "The Empire is about to go to war. It won't be safe for you here. We had been planning to do this in a couple years, but if you think they know where you are now, then you'll have to leave now."  
  
"Leave? Leave and go where?" Eren cried.  
  
"Go pack for him, Carla, I'll explain." His dad sat down on the floor beside him, gently pushing his mom up. "Tonight, you're going to come with me back to Galata. From there you'll take a ship to Greece. From Greece, take one to Naples, and then one to England."  
  
"How will I be safer there?? Aren't they Russian allies?" Eren's head was spinning, too many feelings to count running through his head.  
  
"Yes, which is why you're not staying there. You'll get there and take a ship to America. It's a new country, full of people who've been cast out of their own countries. You'll be safe." Grisha stood up, offering Eren a hand.  
  
Eren followed his dad into the bedroom where his mom had a large bag sitting on the floor. Needles, cotton, fabrics and dye. She'd put a generous amount of pestil, a dried fruit jerky, in the bag too. Eren's eyes widened at the sight. They didn't have much to begin with, and it looked like she was giving him it all.  
  
She saw his expression and shook her head, telling him not to ask. She pressed the heavy bag into his hands and hurried both Eren and his dad towards the door.  
  
"I love you, both of you." She was crying now.  
  
His dad, looking pained, kissed her once and then all but yanked Eren out the door. They were halfway down the street when his dad hissed and pulled him into a narrow gap between two houses. A few seconds passed before Eren heard it- the telltale scuffling of feet on sandstone. Guards came right past them, and both males leant out a little bit to watch them go. The headed straight for Eren's house and knocked on the door.  
  
A firm hand clamped over Eren's mouth and he was pulled back against his dad's chest. He watched in mute horror as his mother answered the door and was yanked out into the streets, one of the guards hitting her over the head with the hilt of his sabre. The another guard grabbed her limp body and swung it up over his shoulder and they all marched off, unfazed and buisness-like.  
  
"We have to keep moving, Eren. Don't let her sacrifice have been in vain." His dad's voice was thick. He pulled Eren along with him onto the streets again, setting a hurried pace back towards the foreigner's quarters.  
  
Eren's cheeks felt warm in the cool night air and he realised he was crying.  
  
When the great bridge to Galata came into view, his dad ducked off the main street. They wound around and underneath the bridge, to where a small rowboat was hidden beside a support. Eren got in it mutely and his dad rowed them across the river.  
  
The guards were thicker in Galata, and they had to stick to more back streets and alleyways to avoid notice. They finally ducked through a backdoor into what Eren vaguely recognised as his dad's shop.  
  
His dad then took the bag from him and began to add some of the jewellery to it.  
  
"Use this when you need money." His dad cinched off the bag and passed it back to him, much heavier now.  
  
Eren took it and set it down at his feet. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"Don't worry about me, Eren." His dad disappeared for a moment and returned with something in his hands. "This is a replica of the key to my house back in Prussia. The house is probably long gone now, but it's all I have to remind me of home. When I met Carla, I carved our names in turkish into the side."  
  
He passed it to Eren. It was a simple bronzed key, slender yet heavy, hanging on a plain leather strap.

"I can't go with you, Eren, I can't leave Carla here. But I want you to take this key with you. Maybe some god will see it and keep you safe." His dad looked away and Eren thought he might have seen tears. "At first light, go to the docks and go to Greece. Don't follow me." With that, his dad slipped out the back door again and vanished.  
  
Eren sat behind the counter, clutching the bag to his chest and swallowing down his tears. When light came at last, he quietly went out onto the strange streets of Galata and made his way to the docks. Using the fragments of Greek he'd picked up from years of haggling with merchants, he managed to secure passage on a small trade ship just as it was about to leave.  
  
With his feet on the worn deck of a ship as it left the harbor, all Eren could do was stare numbly at the outside of the walls that he had lived in all his life.

 

~*~

 

The private room was the biggest one they had and Levi seated himself inside while he sent the two geishas he was working with to eacort their guests in. He informed them that they would be in charge of serving and they both had nodded obediantly, recognising his position and authority.  
  
He seated himself on a cushion in the corner, a safe distance from the table and lightly strummed his shimasen as the men padded in.   He forced himself to remain calm, to slip into the mindset of a careful, polite entertainer.  
  
As the geishas slipped out to bring sake for their guests, he began to sing his first song. It was just soft background music intended to fill the space until the geishas returned and he had a dancer to take the focus off him.  
  
The night went smoothly for the most part and Levi noticed the men beginning to get sleepy after a few hours. The manager had summoned one of the geishas away, so it was only Levi and another girl, but he felt that it was a very manageable task.  
  
The girl had been sent to get a bit more food for the party when one of the men called upon Levi.  
  
"We'd like a fresh bottle of sake." The man at the head of the low table caught Levi's eyes and tilted his head at the bottle meaningfully.  
  
"Of course, sir. Excuse me." Levi set aside his shamisen and got up, bowing low before exiting the room quietly. He got a fresh bottle from the kitchen and returned quickly.  
  
He kept his eyes down as he poured more sake for the men, thankful that the geisha had returned to flirt with the men and take notice off him. It went smoothly until he got to the man at the head of the table.  
  
He poured the sake and set the bottle down, getting ready to return to his cusion and shamisen when a hand grabbed his wrist.  
  
"Just a moment."  
  
Levi looked up in surprise for a moment before he remembered his mother's words and returned his gaze to the table.  
  
"How may I help you, sir?"  
  
"Look at me."  
  
Levi cautiously obeyed, his heart pounding in his chest. The man nodded, but his grip on Levi's wrist didn't loosen.  
  
"Beautiful eyes."  
  
"Thank you." Levi dipped his head, but the man didn't let him leave.  
  
"I feel like I've seen them before."  
  
"I don't believe we've met before. I would have remembered such a powerful man." His voice sounded strange to his own ears, flat and muted under the sound of his heartbeat.  
  
"I think I remember now." The man's eyes glinted terribly. "A Qing ambassador I escorted here, maybe sixteen years ago. How old did you say you were?"  
  
"Sixteen." It was barely a whisper.  
  
"Hmm. Interesting that the manager would allow an impure half-breed to serve me. I'll have to have a word with her about that." The man, the owner, said with a smile.  
  
Levi nodded. "Excuse me." He forced himself to stand and leave the room, snagging the first passing geisha he saw. It was a girl named Yumi, thankfully both a fine dancer and shamisen player.  
  
"You're assigned to the private room, there." He pointed to where he'd come from. Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly, not questioning him in her excitement.  
  
He hurried outside, rushing to his mother's room. He barely gave any warning as he opened the door and slipped inside. She was in the room, eyes red and face tear stained.  
  
"Levi." She got up and hugged him, and the gesture was so unexpected and rare that he knew immediately that something terribly, terribly wrong had happened.  
  
"Mother, what happened?" He asked urgently.  
  
"I'm leaving." Her voice was rough.  
  
"Leaving?"  
  
"One of the patrons, a regular, bought my contract. That's why I've been performing less, why I have the night off."  
  
Levi froze. Bought? But... that meant she would be leaving the pleasure district. She'd become that patron's wife or concubine. He'd never see her again.  
  
He tightened his arms around her, tears forming.  
  
"Are you done with the private room?" She asked and Levi's rush of terror came back full force. He felt the world spin around him and he sank to his knees.  
  
"Mother... I..."  
  
She understood immediately and knelt in front of him.  
  
"Levi, you're going to leave tonight." Her voice was strong now, rough from crying but with a core of steel. "Go to your room, take off your makeup and bring me the plainest clothes you have. Pack a bag of whatever you will take with you, anything you need or want but make sure you can carry it. Then bring me your razor and come back to my room."  
  
He looked at her with dazed eyes but nodded.  
  
Quickly, he went to his own room, and got a big cloth bag. It was nondescript and large enough to hold whatever he needed. He looked through his belongings, selecting a plain black hakama and white gi, a decorative but still sharp knife that had been a gift from a patron and his personal shamisen. Technically, he didn't own any of it, but at this point he had nothing to loose. He grabbed some jewelry and other expensive looking gifts, things he could sell off if he needed to. He took off his makeup in what felt like record time amd hurried back to his mother, bag on his back and razor in hand.  
  
When he entered, she wordlessly took his bag and helped him out of his kimono. He donned his simple clothes and she sat him down in front of the mirror. He felt empty and grey as she began to shave his head completely. When she was done, he looked like what he imagined a monk might.  
  
She gave him a bag of coins and another bag with more expensive looking jewellery, slipping the razor into his bag with food and tying it closed.  
  
"Keep this bag with you. Don't loose sight of it." His mother pressed it into his hands. "You're going to leave the compound and go to the docks. Find a small boat with a lantern on the front that says "fisher" and give him your coins. He will give you chinese money and take you to china. There, stay on the docks and find the strange men with big noses and light hair. Offer to work on their ship. They should understand chinese."  
  
Levi nodded. He'd been taught chinese to read poems and buddist texts. It was rough and he prefered Japanese, but at the moment he was greatful for it.  
  
"Learn the strange language of the big nosed men, and get off in their land. It is called 'London'." She paused, pronouncing the strange name clearly for him to repeat. "They may be cruel to you, but they will not kill you for your eyes. When you get to London you will take another ship to an even stranger land. It is called 'America'."  
  
His mother turned away again, pulling a small pouch from under her pillow. "Take these seeds and plant them when you get to America. Open a tea shop, make a living." There were tears in her eyes when she looked at him. "Find a new last name, never say who you are. Never say where you came from unless you trust them. Go, my dear, live."  
  
Levi was crying too now. He hugged her tightly and touched their foreheads. Then he got up and ran.  
  
Ran out into the dark, full streets, past the brothels and theatres and dark corners where women with their obis tied at the front beckoned.  
  
Ran past the closed stalls selling sweets and pictures and wood blocks depicting scenes of debauchery.  
  
Ran past drunken men smelling of cheap sake, samurai angrily pinning merchants to walls and  smashed pastries.  
  
He ran until he could run no more and stopped just inside the open gate that surrounded the pleasure quarters. He took deep suddering breaths as it began to set in. Once he left, he would never see his mother again. Once he left he would no longer be Levi, taikomochi, finest dancer and and singer and shamisen player of the richest geisha house in Kyoto.  
  
He would just be Levi, the illegitimate and illegal son of a geisha and chinese ambassador. Levi, the runaway.  
  
He stepped outside the walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms and Notes:  
> Taikomochi- male geisha, mostly for comedic routines and entertainment more than for serving  
> Shamisen- traditional japanese stringed instrument  
> Prussia- germany wasn't a standalone country at this time, it was part of the Prussian Empire, still spoke german tho  
> Ottoman Empire- again, turkey wasn't a standalone country either  
> Tokugwa shogunate- think like a military dictatorship in japan  
> Qing dynasty- pronounced "ching", where China got it's current name from  
> yakuko- red lights district  
> Galata- the foreigner's quarters in Constantinople/Istanbul  
> [If](http://www.business-with-turkey.com/tourist-guide/turkish_language.shtml) [you're](http://www.turkishculture.org/literature/language-124.htm) [confused](http://www.mitene.or.jp/~houkan/2002/e00.html) [by](http://www.thekeep.org/~kunoichi/kunoichi/themestream/taikomochi.html#.WWVoRp9ic8o) [something](https://www.ahistoryofgreece.com/revolution.htm) [or ](https://www.onwar.com/aced/chrono/c1800s/yr20/fgreece1821.htm)[interested](http://www.kolpack.com/packnet/prussia.html) [in](http://www.turkishculture.org/applied-arts/metal-artwork/metal-artwork/jewellery-585.htm) [more](https://ocw.mit.edu/ans7870/21f/21f.027/opium_wars_01/ow1_essay01.html) [I](http://nationalinterest.org/blog/the-buzz/the-opium-wars-the-bloody-conflicts-destroyed-imperial-china-17212>stuff</a>%20<a%20href=) [have](http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/heroin/etc/history.html) [links](https://www.opiates.net/) [just](http://holachina.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/chinese-opium-smokers.jpg) [keep](http://www.in2013dollars.com/1800-dollars-in-2016) in mind this fic is not entirely accurate for the sake of time


	2. Chapter 2

The sun began to rise just before the walls of Constantinople faded out of sight completely. As the tops dipped under the horizon, Eren relinquished his death grip on the railing of the ship. He knew he'd probably have splinters in his palms from the rough wood but he couldn't bring himself to care. His mom was lying in a cold cell somewhere, hurt, maybe dying, all because he'd fucked up and gotten caught. His dad was trying to get her out, probably on death row himself now too. And here he was, on a ship headed to Greece, running away.  
  
Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and he turned his gaze away from the walls. The owner of the boat bustled around, checking straps and locks  to make sure nothing had been stolen. He eyed Eren suspiciously and said nothing as he went back underneath the deck. It was just as well.  
  
Eren didn't feel like talking and, more than that, he didn't thinkhl he knew enough Greek to hold a conversation with the man. He supposed he'd need to try to talk to people later on in his voyage to learn other languages, but that was a ways off and he didn't feel the need to learn anything yet.  
  
He knew "ship", "carry", "money" and a dozen other trade related words in as many languages from his time at the docks. That would be enough for the time.  
  
On the open water, the sun beat down viciously and the air was thicker with water. Eren's lips were soon cracked and salty from the sea spray. He took shade whereve he could find it, huddling behind the mast or under the railing or pressed to the wall under the eaves of the captain's quarters. He didn't dare venture below deck for any relief. The air below was stagnant and hot and thick with the smell of fish and sweat. At least here he could find relief in the wind and cooling sea spray.  
  
As the day wore on Eren found another good reason for staying above deck. As accustomed as he was with working with merchants and sailors, he was not at all familiar with the ships themselves. The constant rocking and swaying  of the deck under his feet did his stomach no favours and the rising bile in his throat made Eren very glad that he had no appetite anyway.  
  
He'd get his sea legs eventually, he figured. It would just take him some time. Besides, it was three days to Greece and even longer to America. He'd have nothing but time.

 

~*~

 

Levi's hands shook on the rail of the small boat he'd bought his passage to China on. The man steering it shot him strange looks every now and then, but he didn't say a word or ask questions. That was all the better for Levi. He didn't think he could handle a conversation right now, much less try to keep up his charade of being a buddhist monk. At least once he got to China and found the people who would take him to London he could drop the act. Foreigners wouldn't be familiar with the strict customs of Chinese or Japanese culture.  
  
The owner of the boat kept to the back, behind the sail, leaving him the front of the boat. Levi wondered how many people he had ferried to China in the middle of the night. He wondered what they had been escaping. Had some been fleeing geishas, like him? Or had they been petty criminals, thieves and cutpurses, escaping guards? Bankrupt second sons, disgraced samurai, betrayed smugglers, retiring yakuza?  
  
He wondered what he would be escaping to. He'd never left the walls of the red light district before, born and raised entirely inside the geisha house, and now in the span of a few hours he had left, gone to the docks and seen his first real ships, gotten on one, and left the country of his birth.  
  
The country that held half his blood line. He knew his mother's parents had been but lowly farmers, necessitating  selling his mother off to a geisha house at a young age, but she'd work to raise her status and her son had been born into a much higher status. He'd raised up his family in this country, family he didn't know and now would never have the chance to meet.  
  
And now he rushed on wind and sea to the country that held claim to the other half of his blood, where he would have been brought up a lordling, subserviant only to a father and an emperor that were as foreign to Levi as the land itself was.  
  
And yet neither country would accept him, the bastard half-blood child of a geisha and an ambassador, so he would flee both. Run to a land that held no ties to him or anyone else. Hope that this new land with no people to call it their own would accept him with the rest of the misfits that fled home in search of acceptance or a new life.  
  
The full moon cast out over the water and Levi knew that Kyoto's finest taikomochi was dying. Not dead yet, but would be soon. And he had no idea who would rise from that corpse but he had no choice other than to accept that and hope that he wouldn't ever forget the things that had made up him until now.

 

~*~

 

The dock seemed to lurch under Eren's feet and he had to grab hold of a post to keep himself from falling. So it was his land legs that he had traded for sea legs, Eren thought to himself. He smiled wryly and bodily hauled himself vertical. They'd caught some unfavourable winds coming in and had made the trip in a little more time than predicted.  
  
But it was perfect for Eren. Barely morning on the fourth day, most ships were just beginning preparations to depart as they pulled into dock. It made it very easy for Eren to find a ride. He simply walked among the rows of smaller, merchant ships, calling out "Naples!"  
  
Eventually he found one man who responded to his call, nodding and chattering something in excited Greek that Eren didn't quite catch.  
  
"Take me to Naples?" Eren asked in broken Greek, holding up a simple bronze medallion. The thing was a trinket, really, but the merchant's eyes lit up greedily.  
  
"We leave soon, be in Naples in four days." The man replied in equally rough Turkish. Eren appreciated the man's attempt.  
  
He was quick to accept the hand that helped him onto the deck of the merchant ship. The deck was stable under his feet and Eren let out a little sigh of relief. It was almost funny how much better he felt on deck, now that he was accustomed to the feeling. The trip to Naples would probably be smoother, at least. There weren't any rocky passes that they'd need to go through to get there.  
  
Plus, Eren felt a little better knowing he would soon be off to a country not controlled by the Ottomans. As far as he knew, Naples would be more laid back and he would soon be able to loose the covering that shielded his eyes. Then again, it might be a good idea to keep them hidden until he got to America. Maybe even past then.  
  
If he was being honest, Eren didn't know how to feel about his eyes anymore. His mom had loved them, and he had too. But they had gotten both his mom and dad killed. He kind of hated them, he thought.  
  
No, that wasn't right, Eren realised a second later. His eyes may have given it away, but it was ultimately his fault for being caught. His eyes were a part of him, and it was all of him that he hated.  
  
Tears sprung again to his eyes and he bit down on the hand that was pressed to his mouth to stifle any noise he might make. Tears weren't a luxury he had, nor were they one he deserved.  
  
When the ship pushed off the dock an hour later, Eren just stared at the worn wood with red eyes. The Turkish guards who paced the docks watched the ship depart, either unaware or just uncaring about the cargo it was about to bear across the waves, into safer waters. Or, if not safer, then stranger waters.  
  
Eren shut his eyes and leaned against the side of the boat, covering pulled down over his eyes and let the gentle rocking lull him into sleep.

 

~*~

 

China was... dirty. Dirty, crowded and nothing at all like Levi had expected. The language sounded harsher than he'd thought it did and he knew he'd need to keep his speaking to a minimum to avoid his accent from showing. He kept his bag clutched in front of him, both hands clasped tightly around the neck. He knew pickpockets were a thing and he didn't want to take any chances.  
  
Fortunately, the strange men his mother had described to him were easy to find. They were nothing like Levi had ever seen before. Long, oddly shaped noses and deep eyes. And they were huge. One of the tallest ones was easily two heads or more taller than Levi, with broad shoulders and thick, corded arms to match.  
  
Their hair was stranger yet. Some had normal dark hair, or shaved heads, but some had hair around their mouths and under their noses. Some had colours that Levi had never seem before. One had hair like dead grass, yellow and flat. Another hair frizzy red hair that looked like it had been stolen from a fire. Yet another one had a light brown, but streaked with yellow and darker tones, like patterned leaves lightened with sun and shaded by trees.  
  
As he got closer, Levi couldn't help but stare in amazement and happiness at their eyes. The multi-toned hair man had light brown eyes with as many colours as his hair, the man with fire hair had startlingly green eyes and the man with dead grass had eyes like pools of water in a garden. Among the crowd of dark eyes, Levi finally felt like maybe his eyes didn't matter so much. What was silver in the face of blue and green and so many other hues?  
  
"Hey, kid!" An accented voice called out to him in Chinese and Levi looked up with a start. "Yeah, you. Do you have any family here?"  
  
A man with especially deep sunk eyes and a bald head was looking at him intently. Levi almost ducked his head before he remembered that his eyes wouldn't matter.  
  
"No, I don't." He answered cautiously. The man frowned at his accent but didn't seem otherwise bothered by it.  
  
"Are you looking for work? We could use some extra hands to manage cargo. You'll get food and bed and a little money on the ship." The man offered.  
  
Levi's heart lept. "Is your ship going to go to London?"  
  
The man laughed. "Yeah, it is. Trying to get there?"  
  
"Yes." Levi's voice was clipped despite his excitement. "I would like to work on your ship."  
  
"Great, go stand with those kids over there. We'll be going shortly." The man pointed to a group of Chinese that looked around his age and older. Right away, he could tell there was something wrong with them.  
  
Their skin was sallowed, eyes shifty and many of them fidgeted irritably. They eyed Levi with indifference, settling on his bag with a sort of curious hunger that made him deeply uneasy. Their focus turned away from him just as quickly, however, back to the gangplank from the ship and European men who promised work and food.

 

~*~

  
  
Getting on a ship to England once in Naples was a significantly harder task. Right away,  Eren knew who the Europeans in the port of Naples must be, simply because of the size of their ship and the completely foreign language they spoke. The problem was, because their language was totally foreign, he had no way of knowing if they would take him where he needed to be.  
  
As a result, Eren found himself stuck in Naples for quite some time.  
  
There was a little hollow under the docks he slept in at night, cold and damp and miserable but safe and secluded. During the day he wandered around the market, lifting snacks from stalls and following two Europeans. He stayed as close to them as he could, listening to them talk and picking up their language. So far he'd figured out basic greeting and possibly the word for money? It was hard to tell. There was a fair amount of pointing and saying a foreign word, then waiting for the merchant they were talking to to repeat the word.   
  
After a few maddening days of following and listening, Eren had a great stroke of luck.  
  
The Europeans went into a bookstore.  
  
At first, Eren was annoyed by this. It was a lot harder to unobtrusively follow someone into a store than it was to follow them from stall to stall. Then he noticed the sign for the store. Just under the large carved book was a small line of words- words in Turkish. A name.  
  
Eren peeked inside slowly, but he saw neither the men nor anyone who might be the store owner. He opened the door and stepped fully inside, eyes flickering around. The store was cosy, and smelled like incense. It reminded Eren of home. He walked around the stacks of shelves and found the Europeans talking to a shorter man behind a counter. The man had dark hair and skin, most likely the owner of the Turkish name on the sigh.  
  
"Excuse me?" Eren asked hesitantly when there was a break in the conversation. All three men turned to look at him.  
  
"Little mouse, these men say you've been following them for days." The shopkeeper spoke in fluent Turkish. Eren sighed and relaxed his shoulders. This man spoke their language. He could help him.  
  
"Yes, I need to learn their language so I can speak with them." Eren replied.  
  
The man nodded and smiled kindly at him. He then spoke to the Europeans for a moment.  
  
"What do you need to ask them? I can translate for you." The shopkeeper offered.  
  
Eren grinned and nodded. "Thank you. I need to know if they are from England."  
  
The shopkeeper turned and repeated his question in the foreign language.  
  
"Yes, their ship leaves tomorrow for a place called Bristol in England."  
  
"Can they take me with them?"  
  
Eren waited until the shopkeeper had finished and pulled a handful of metal chains from his bag, showing it to the English.  
  
"Have money?" Eren said, tenatively, in English. The two men looked at each other and turned back to the shopkeeper.  
  
"They say they can get you on the ship, and provide you with food for that amount. You won't have a cabin, though."  
  
Eren nodded excitedly. "Thank you!"  
  
The English said a few more words to the shopkeeper to translate.  
  
"They say to follow them to the ship and give the chains to the man they point to. The journey will take 20 days."  
  
Eren bowed low to the shopkeeper.  
  
"Little mouse." Just before they left the shopkeeper called out to Eren again. "Try to learn English." He carefully pronounced the last word for Eren, the name of the language. Eren nodded and followed after the men towards their ship.

 

~*~

 

The first night out on the open sea, Levi found out what was wrong with the Chinese men whom he had sailed away with. After dinner, he followed the crowd of them off. It was easier to stick with them and appear to be part of their group to avoid attention. They'd gone to another area of the sleeping quarters, to a European man with dark eyes and a cruel smile. One by one, they'd each handed over money and small bricks of a brown, tar-like substance. The way their fingers grasped at the small things was unnerving, greedy and desperate. Some tucked it away in pockets, others pulled out cigarette paper and began to make one out of the stuff. Levi hung back, unsettled and wary of whatever it was they were buying.  
  
"Opium. It's the only reason the lot of them took this job." The bald man who had offered Levi his place on the ship appeared beside him.  
  
Levi started and looked at him. "What is it? Why do they want it so badly?"  
  
"It's a drug." The man looked at him with a wry smile. "You're really something, brat. What's your name?"  
  
"Levi." He answered hesitantly. "What does it do to them? Why do they need this job to get it?"  
  
"Levi? No last name?" The man asked. Levi shook his head.  
  
"Well, Levi, it makes them feel good. But it also makes it them feel bad when they don't have it. Be careful of them. They live for opium and they'll gladly slit your throat if they think it'll get them more." The bald man clapped a hand on his shoulder. "England has been supplying opium to the Chinese for years. They want to trade, but have nothing the Chinese are willing to trade for. So they send them drugs and everyone who has some wants more. Eventually they get to the point where their bodies can't function with out opium anymore. Then they trade the substance their bodies need to live for porcelain and tea and silk. Opium is illegal in China, of course, so these boys take this job to get an easy supply. Any money they're given for their work they give right back in trade for opium. It's free labour."  
  
"That's evil." Levi was shocked. He knew it would not be an easy trip to America, but this... this was beyond anything he could have imagined. Lives and souls being traded for ornaments and trinkets.  
  
"Yes." The bald man laughed. "And yet they do it anyway, because money is money. I like you, brat. My name's Kenny Ackerman."  
  
Levi nodded mutely, watching the Chinese trail away with their prizes.  
  
"Where are you from and where are you going?" Kenny asked him, his eyes locked on Levi.  
  
"I am going to America." Levi answered carefully.  
  
"That was only one of my questions." Kenny caught his eyes with a piercing gaze. "I've never heard your accent before."  
  
"Japanese." Levi whispered it, barely moving his lips.  
  
"Japanese? I didn't think they let you out of your country." There was something in Kenny's voice that Levi couldn't quite place.  
  
Levi said nothing, just met Kenny's gaze full on until the man nodded.  
  
"The Japanese don't have silver eyes." Kenny said.  
  
"No."  
  
Kenny nodded. "I lied."  
  
Levi looked at him sharply and tensed. What had he lied about? He prepared to run. He wasn't sure how he would get away if Kenny intended to turn him in.  
  
"Relax." Kenny snorted. "I lied about your accent. I have heard it before. Come with me."  
  
Still wary, Levi followed Kenny back to a rope hammock and sat beside him.  
  
"I had another Japanese come through here, trying to get to America a year ago. He was younger than you by a lot, quiet and suspicious. Turns out he wasn't a he at all, but a young girl escaping being sold to a whore house." Kenny stopped and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "She called it a 'geisha house'."  
  
His words were harsh as he tried to pronounce the Japanese phrase, but Levi started immediately.  
  
"It's not a whore house. Geishas are talented entertainers and performers and nothing like low class whores from brothels. We do not sleep with our clients." Levi insisted, then froze when he noticed the look Kenny was giving him.  
  
"We?"  
  
"I-"  
  
"Relax, brat." Kenny snorted. "I didn't turn her in, even when I found out she was a girl and I won't turn you in either. I've got a soft spot for run away Japanese, it seems."

 

~*~

 

By the time Eren pulled into the port in Bristol, his English skills had dramatically improved. He'd thrown all of his energy and focus into learning the language, which had been easy and hard in equal measures.  
  
Hard in the sense that it was a foreign language and unlike any he'd encountered before. He knew was fluent in german thanks to his dad and at first he'd thought that English might be similar. The more he listened, however, the less likely that seemed. It used the same characters, but pronunciations were different and grammar was backwards in places. As usual, Eren found memorising single words to be the easy part, and learning to string them together the hard part.  
  
But the ship to Bristol had been the perfect place to learn. Everyone on the ship spoke English and English alone. All Eren had to do was slip down to the galley and listen to people talk. The words he knew helped him slowly fill in sentences until they finally arrived in England and Eren felt like he had enough proficiency to carry on a limited conversation.  
  
When he finally stepped off the ship onto the dock and got his first sight of England, he was totally shocked. It was totally different from his home. No sand-scored buildings, towering walls or domes, palm trees, bustling plazas and bazaars. It wasnt like Greece or Naples either. The rich black soil and groves of trees framing white open houses and temples and all encompassed by dazzling blue water was gone,  No, the only way to describe Bristol was grey.  
  
Grey sky, grey buildings, grey cobblestone streets. Even the water in port was grey. And it was cold. It had been the end of their hot monsoon season when he'd left home, and about a month had passed since then. Back home the tempurature would be starting to drop, yes, but nothing like this.  
  
A cold wind bit into him and Eren clutched his bag tighter to him. This miserable place was the last stop before he'd be to where his parents wanted him, America. He didn't plan on staying there long, anyway.  
  
Eren pulled his head covering out of his bag and wrapped it loosely around his mouth as a sort of scarf, which was a popular European face covering, he had learned. Now that he was in England,  he was starting to see the benefits of the odd clothing they wore.  
  
When he'd been on the ship from Naples, he'd exchanged his loose, light cotton clothes for tightly fitted coarse wool and cotton clothes that had more closely resembled the sailors's own clothes. He'd been told theyd help him fit in and keep him comfortable, and he'd not really believed them at the time.  
  
Now, of course, the much thicker and warmer clothes started to make more sense.  
  
Eren started to scan the docks for a ship that looked like it might be going to America. He recognised some passenger class ships and some merchant ships, but it was impossible to tell simply from the hulls where they were headed. Sighing, Eren resolved to just ask someone. Time to put his English to the test.  
  
"Excuse me, do you know ship going to America?" Eren stumbled halfway through, his nervous brain forgetting a few words.  
  
The shipmaster glanced at him briefly and pointed to a big ship with the name "Maria" painted on the side.  
  
Eren bowed and headed towards the ship. He caught one of the sailors coming off, tugging at the man's shirtback.  
  
"This ship goes to America?" Eren asked. The man looked down at him in surprise.  
  
"Yes, it does. You want to get on?" The man's English was accented with something familiar. It took Eren a second to recognise German.  
  
"Can you speak German?" Eren asled excitedly, in German. The man's eyebrows raised and he smiled.  
  
"I sure can, kiddo. What do you need?" His German was more relaxed and Eren could tell they were both more comfortable in this laguage.  
  
"I need to get to America. I can pay." Eren showed him the last of the few pieces of jewellery he had from his dad. He didn't want to give them away, but his dad had given them to him to use for this, plus he didn't want to use the fabric his mother had given him. That was even more precious to him.

  
"You can't pay with that. You're gonna need proper money." The man frowned. "Come with me. We'll go to some shops and you can sell that off for money."  
  
Eren nodded, somewhat unsure. He was much more comfortable with the barter method he'd grown up using.  
  
"So, kid, what's your name?" The man asked as they were walking.  
  
"Eren."  
  
The man nodded. "I'm Hannes, Hannes Schulz. Where'd you learn to speak German? You don't look German."  
  
Eren rubbed his eye. "My dad taught me."  
  
"Ah." Hannes stopped in front of a metal shop. "Let's try this."  
  
They stepped inside the shop, Eren pulling his long hair further over his green eye. He went up to the counter where an English man eyed him suspiciously. He set a few bracelets, about half of what he had left, on the counter.  
  
"Can you buy these?" He asked in English. The man shot him another look and picked up the bracelets to inspect them, his eyes going wide as he did.  
  
"This work... is this Turkish?" The man asked, incredulous. Eren nodded. He'd saved the silver and gold stuff for last.  
  
"I can give you two pounds for each, for a total of ten pounds." The man was already pulling out coins. Eren shot a quick look at Hannes, unsure if that was a good price. Hannes nodded vigorously.   
  
The man handed over the money excitedly and took the bracelets, stashing them under his desk.  
  
Hannes laughed as Eren stowed the coins away. In German, he counted Eren's money out. "You're not going to need much else. Four of those coins will cover your board and food for the trip to America."  
  
Eren's eyes went wide. He could trade those little things for that? Cool. He bowed to both Hannes and the shop owner and followed Hannes out.  
  
"Where did you get those bracelets?" Hannes asked him as soon as they were out of the door. "Did you steal them?"  
  
Eren went rigid. "No. My dad gave them to me. He made them."  
  
Hannes didn't notice Eren's change in posture. "Who was your dad? He sounds like an amazing guy."  
  
Eren's voice felt like it was stuck in his throat. "He was. Grisha Jaeger."  
  
Hannes turned to him, amazed. "Grisha Jaeger? Brown hair, long and pulled back, glasses? That's your dad?"  
  
Eren nodded. "Did you know him?"  
  
"Know him? We grew up together! Practically brothers!" Hannes had a grin so wide Eren thought it might fall off his face. "I always wondered where he'd gotten off too. He did good, didn't he? Had a smart kid with a beautiful Turkish lady, made his own jewellery?"  
  
Hannes ruffled Eren's hair. "I'll make sure you get to America safely, kid. I owe it to your family to."

 

~*~

 

"Give it to me!" The Chinese man pressed forward, eyes burning feverishly. Levi stood his ground.  
  
"I have nothing for you. Get your fix elsewhere."  He snarled. Months on the ship, sleeping with these same men every night had taught him how to deal with them. Most were too weak to do anything, all bluster and bark but no fight when it came down to it. Bluffing and acting fierce would calm the situation. Besides, Levi had grown to feel naught but contempt for them.  
  
They'd chosen opium and now they relied on it. The English offered it, an act of cruelty he wouldn't excuse, but these men had chosen to give in to it. They were weak. He'd seen one knife another in their sleep just to steal his money and stash. There was no honour in their tactics, there was no honour in their lives. Levi had taken to sleeping lightly with his fingers wrapped around the ornate, but deadly sharp knife he had brought. It had quickly become his most prized posession.  
  
Kenny had even offered to teach him to fight with it when he'd told the man about what he'd seen. Kenny had taken care of him in ways Levi hadn't expected. He was rough with his lessons, never pulling punches but never failing to compliment a good move. He'd even begun to teach Levi English, a language he'd need for life in America. Again, lessons were far from easy because Kenny would never translate words for him, simply repeat the English until Levi figured it out on his own or ignoring Levi's pleas until Levi found the correct word or phrase to say. Hard, but effective. Levi guessed Kenny was what a father would be like.  
  
As he narrowed his eyes at the Chinese man who was all but begging him for money or drugs, Levi wasn't sure which, he remembered those lessons. The man got closer, and he could see the rim of red circling the enraged, bloodshot eyes. Levi sneered, this was barely a man anymore. Then the man did what Levi least expected- he charged.  
  
Levi was shocked- their posturing never amounted to anything- but that lasted for only a split second. Then he was in motion, moving like Kenny had taught him  
  
He was small in build and height, so he didn't try to meet it head on. Instead, he grabbed the man's arm, pulling it back as inertia and the man's weight carried his body forward. He snaked a foot out, catching his assailant's shin and bringing the man down. He heard a whistle from one of the Europeans who had gathered, eager to see the spectacle, opium-fueled  a great source of entertainment for them. He heard bets being made, money passed around as the other Chinese joined, and he felt like a dog locked in a cage and made to fight for entertainment.  
  
Levi dropped the man's arm and turned away, lip curled in disgust. The man was down, he had won, and he refused to soil himself with the death of a man who had already lost. The addicts had no souls and no chance of an honourable end anyway.  
  
The crowds seemed subdued for a moment, disappointed by the lack of blood as Levi walked back towards his hammock. He saw Kenny in the crowd, then the flash of eyes turning at once to a spot behing him and Levi whirled.  
  
The man he had brought down was up again, teeth bared and a knife in hand. Levi had no idea where the knife had come from, but he knew at once that the crowd would get what they wanted. The intent to kill coupled with the bloodthirst in the addict's eyes and Levi knew he would not stop until one of them was dead. Levi had no intention of letting it be him.  
  
The murmur of renewed bets sprung up again and Levi blotted them out, focusing on the man and his grip on the knife.  
  
It was tight, white knuckles and taut skin, but fragile. Levi knew how to break it. He let the man move first, a head on charge that veered left at the end. Levi saw the hesitation before the change in direction and moved, dancing out of the way. The man turned, too slow, and Levi grabbed his wrist and pulled it in the opposite direction of the man's motion, his other hand pushing the man's shoulder forward. A pop and the knife dropped, the man grunting in pain. Levi caught the knife by the hilt and brandished it, giving the man a chance to back out. But the dark eyes were hazy with anger and longing for opium, mind too dazed to register the pain of a dislocated shoulder or process the loss of the knife. The man came at him again, faster because of proximity, but Levi turned aside and helped the man ram his own head into the wall of the ship. The man faltered and Levi hoped he might pass out.  
  
No such luck, however, as the man turned around, blood trickling down his face and moved again. His moves were sluggish, but unrelenting and Levi knew it was time to end it.  
  
The knife slid across the throat of its' former owner and a body hit the floor. It was a quick death, like putting down a rabid dog. Levi dropped the knife and pushed his way past the Europeans silently. They'd gotten what they wanted. He shouldered his way through them and walked past Kenny, who pocketed a handful of coins before falling in step.  
  
"You've learned a lot. Good job." Kenny smiled at him. Levi said nothing. He felt unclean.  
  
Kenny seemed to take the hint and said nothing else, walking beside him as Levi wandered. They ended up on deck, staring out over the water. The deck was clear but for the skeleton crew that made up the night shift. There was no moon to light the water tonight.  
  
"We'll be in London in a few weeks if we don't hit any bad weather." Kenny said in English. They rarely spoke in Chinese anymore.  
  
"Hm."  
  
"Look." Kenny's voice was firm. "Go to New York in America. It's a big city, it'll be easy to get to. You'll be able to register to become a citizen there, take my last name for that."  
  
It was the closest thing Kenny had for an apology or comfort, Levi knew. The man was like a father anyway.  
  
"Levi Ackerman, huh?" He didn't look at Kenny, but he knew that lopsided smile would be on his face.  
  
"A good name. You'll make it proud." Kenny turned to lean his back against the railing. "Find the other Japanese girl, she's also got my name. Mikasa Ackerman. You're both strong, you can take care of each other."  
  
Levi nodded. "Sure, old man."  
  
"Tch. Shitty brat."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Levi will meet soon, I promise, probably chapter 4? I originally intended for it to be chapter 3, but things got a little intense. Also, Levi is turning into the Levi we all know him as! Yay for hurried and rough traumatic character development!

**Author's Note:**

> Hmu at [my fan tumblr ](moonlightinwater.tumblr.com) or [my main ](whats-a-horn.tumblr.com).


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